


A Month of Jeanmarco

by glitchfics



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, 30 Day OTP Porn Challenge, Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Cuddles, M/M, Masturbation, Nudity, Swearing, cursing, naked, naked cuddles, naked kisses, naked snuggles, snuggles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitchfics/pseuds/glitchfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, so I’m going to attempt to do the 30 day nsfw challenge with Jeanmarco. A lot of people have been doing it with their otp’s, so let me see if I can make it work with mine.</p><p>I don’t think I have a specific AU for this really. They’re probably in college, but I can add specifics pertaining to each particular chapter.</p><p>I’m excited to start this, let’s see if I can manage to finish it.</p><p>-</p><p>1. Naked cuddles.</p><p>Yes yes yes naked Jeanmarco getting their snuggle on and stuff. In this they’re probably later in their college years, maybe the third year. So they’ve got their own apartment just off campus.</p><p>Also, always let me know if anything triggers you that I haven't already listed in the tags of the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Naked Cuddles

It is a universally acknowledged truth that Marco is the absolute perfect temperature. That is, if the universe was comprised of one Jean Kirchstein.

Marco’s a pleasant, soft kind of warm in the spring and summer, but it’s like he gradually gets toastier as the weather gets cooler. And right now Jean and Marco are in Chicago. In the dead of winter. In other words: Antarctica.

Jean also happens to be the opposite of Marco temperature-wise. He’s cold all the time, and not the cute kind of chilly where he has to borrow Marco’s jacket to warm up for a minute (even though he always does). It’s the kind of cold that means he’s wearing at least a sweater and a pair of his ungodly-tight skinny jeans (or his one pair of sweats) at all times.

So he’s curled up under the comforter of his and Marco’s bed in two sweatshirts, sweatpants, and a pair of socks that are drooping off his toes because they’re Marco’s and they’re far too big. 

The central heating is broken since the landlords, Erwin and Levi, are off fucking in Boca or whatever they do once it gets too cold for them. And Hange, who steps in for them whenever they’re gone, is either too scatterbrained to get it fixed, or too busy with her experiments. Most of which have contributed to the perpetually funny smell on the far left of the first floor.

Jean lifted his head when he heard the front door open, smiling to himself as Marco stomped snow from his boots, huffing from the cold air.

“You aren’t going to help me unpack groceries?” Marco called from the door, paper crinkling as he set down the bags to shrug his woolen coat off.

“I would if I hadn’t spent the past hour creating the perfect warm spot.” 

The bed squeaked a bit, the mattress lilting to the left when Marco sat down, sprawling himself across the bed to try and wrap his arms around the vaguely Jean-shaped lump under the comforter. “Mhmm. Could’ve just waited for me.”

Jean poked his head out to peck his boyfriend’s lips, smiling at the brush of red that lingered on his nose from the cold. “And frozen while I was doing so, yeah. Did you find any space heaters while you were out?”

“I thought I was your space heater,” Marco said indignantly, wrinkling his pink nose and tightening his hold around the bundle of blanket and sweatshirts in his arms.

“I meant the kind that don’t have to leave to get groceries.”

“Excuse me for living with someone who only eats the one kind of pop tart that no store sells.” He grinned teasingly, quirking his eyebrows.

“Hey, Wildlicious Wild Berry are my post-sex pop tarts, and if we don’t have them, you’re getting laid significantly less.”

Marco stuck his tongue out and pretended to retch. “They’re disgusting.” He kissed Jean’s forehead with a smile. “But I bought them. Two boxes.”

“If I wasn’t afraid of destroying my bubble of warmth I’d fuck you.”

“Sex would keep you warm.”

“And the second you take off my clothes my dick is going to recede into my body because there are no space heaters and you hate having sex under the covers.” Which was true. Marco was warm, but that meant that fucking under the covers made him sweat like Bertholdt.

“Fine, but at least let me warm you up,” Marco cooed, craning his neck to press his nose into Jean’s hair. 

“I’m warm… ish.”

He tugged the comforter off of Jean, chuckling when his blonde boyfriend nearly hissed at him.

“What have you done?!”

“Forced you to snuggle me.”

Jean was already wriggling his way into Marco’s arms, looping one arm over his shoulder, his other hand fisted in his sweater with his legs clamped around one of his long thighs. “You suck,” he muttered into his chest, his smile clear in his voice.

“Do I?” Marco asked with a soft grin, hitching the comforter up from the end of the bed with the leg that Jean wasn’t koala-ing and draping it over them.

“Not often enough,” Jean murmured cheekily, sighing happily when Marco pulled the comforter over them.

A faint blush stained Marco’s cheeks, despite having known Jean and his cheeky comments for a little longer than the five years they’d been dating.

They laid like that for awhile, Marco running his fingers through blonde hair and rasping them over darker undercut. Jean had started to doze, the way he’d twined himself around his boyfriend slackening as he drifted. Hazel eyes flickered open when he felt Marco start to twitch and shift against him. 

“You’re hot, aren’t you?”

Marco made an apologetic noise. “I mean, I’m wearing a cable knit sweater.” He pulled at the dark forest green knit pointedly. And damn that was one of Jean’s favorite sweaters on him. It fit him flawlessly, fitted without being skin tight, and the knit made his chest look bigger and his shoulders look broader. Plus, the way forest green looks against tan, freckled skin is perfect.

“Then take it off,” Jean breathed. “Studies show body heat is shared more easily without clothes. It’s basic survival.”

Marco snorted. “Yeah, only if both people have their clothes off, Eagle Scout.” But his fingers caught at the hem of the sweater anyways, and he tugged, disentangling himself from Jean for a second to wriggle out of the garment and toss it to the floor. “Your turn.”

A faint pout found its way onto Jean’s lips, but he huffed out a sigh and slipped one of his sweatshirts off.

“I should’ve known there were extra layers.” He laughed and reached down to pull off his damp socks. “Off with sweatshirt numero dos.”

“Huh uh, not until I have to, Mr. Spanish Major.” He pushed Marco’s socks off with his feet and let them drop next to the bed.

Marco unbuckled his belt and hooked his thumbs under his waistband, pulling his jeans down, boxer briefs and all. Warm hands found the hem of Jean’s sweatshirt, fumbling under the cover a bit before he skimmed them up his boyfriend’s sides, shucking it off. He pretended not to notice the shiver and happy hum that escaped Jean at his warm touch.

It wasn’t a second before Jean had wormed his way back against Marco’s chest, his hands pinned between them to keep them warm, his nose pressed into one of the shallow dips in his boyfriend’s collarbones.

“Fuck, you’re warm.” His words were muffled.

Marco smiled, taking one hand to push Jean’s sweats off his hips and help him wriggle out of them. “Better than two sweatshirts and a comforter?”

“Much,” Jean sighed, curling cold toes against the tops of Marco’s feet. His eyes wandered over the slope of his boyfriend’s shoulder, admiring the utterly random and comfortingly familiar array of freckles.

It was like snuggling a hot water bottle, but a much more muscular, much cuddlier hot water bottle.

“I thought so.” He rolled even closer Jean, throwing a leg over him and readjusting the blanket on them. Marco tucked his nose against blonde hair, letting brown eyes slide shut with the smell of Jean’s shampoo flooding his senses (he smells like fucking mangoes for Christ’s sake). His hand was sprawled across the blonde’s back, and he ran his fingertips down his spine gently.

Jean arched his back a bit, uncurling his hands against Marco’s chest. “Mm, ‘s nice, babe.” 

Marco mumble-grunted noncommittally and tightened his arms around Jean. “Shh.” His eyes stayed closed.

He was tired. They were both on winter break now; it had only started a few days ago. But just before break started Marco had been bogged down with loads of coursework because his teachers all seemed to be the type who liked to get things out of the way before their students let everything dribble out of their brains over break. So every time his head touched a pillow, he passed out.

A smile curled on Jean’s lips, and he tilted his face up to press a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s chin while he snoozed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading *blows kisses*
> 
> It makes me really happy to know people read my stuff and like it, especially since I'm getting back into the swing of fanfiction.


	2. Naked Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2\. Naked Kisses
> 
> Hot, morning naked Jeanmarco kisses. And a horny Marco.
> 
> In this they’re probably later in their college years, maybe 3rd year’s. So they’ve got their own apartment just off campus. (same au as last time, yep)

Jean had heard Marco get out of bed to start breakfast and take a shower about an hour ago, but he’d ignored him as usual, pushing his face into the pillow to try and milk what was left of his sleep. Then Marco would just have to drag his ass out of bed so he could scramble to get ready, shove a few bites of breakfast into his mouth, and just barely make it to the early philosophy class he regretted signing on for… as usual.

Marco palmed at the covers, his hand settling on what felt like a possible shoulder. He shook his boyfriend gently. “Rise and shine, or you’ll be late.”

The only response he got was a muffled grumble and a bit of a twitch.

“If you hurry up for once, we can stop for coffee.”

Jean said something into the pillow, turning his face to the side and repeating himself so Marco could hear him. “Don’t you usually make coffee?” The top of his head was a wild mess. “Mussed” would have been an understatement. 

“We’re out of coffee filters because someone-” he sang. “-forgot to put them on the grocery list.”

“Why didn’t you put them on the list?” Jean half slurred, cracking one eye open.

“Because you’re the only coffee drinker in this household.”

“Mm.” He turned over, giving his boyfriend his back and curling up tighter.

Marco tugged at his earlobe sharply. “C’mon, up.”

“Fine,” Jean groaned, rolling onto his back and shoving the covers off. This was enough to satisfy Marco, who walked back into the bathroom with his towel around his waist to finish getting ready.

Jean laid in bed for a few more minutes before finally getting up (which was more of him half rolling off the bed and catching himself on his feet before he completely fell off). He shuffled into the bathroom, only wearing one of Marco’s ancient marching band t-shirts from high school (the tuba, in case you were wondering).

He rubbed at his eyes, rolling them when he saw his hair in the mirror. “And you wonder why I have to glom five pounds of gel shit into this every morning.”

“It’d be easier if you woke up earlier and just took a shower. You know you have an easier time with it when it’s wet and you can comb it out.” Marco ran a hand through his own damp hair and gave it a soft shake, fiddling with the bits at the front until they looked nice.

Jean curled his lip. “Early is the part that I’m not agreeing with.” He turned on the tap and splashed some water on his face, lifting the hem of the t-shirt to dry it off. He padded out of the bathroom, slipping the Marco’s shirt off and tossing it into the hamper. Well, in the general direction of the hamper. Marco was much better about actually getting it in the hamper. “Plus, you shower in the mornings. I’d either have to wake up earlier than you – which I’m not capable of - or make you wake up earlier to shower so that I can shower.” 

Jean set about finding a relatively clean t-shirt before he walked back into the bathroom. He found one with one of Joy Division’s album covers on the front, which was fine he guessed, even though they weren’t his favorite. Jean liked it anyways; Armin had given it to him awhile ago. He walked up behind Marco and peered over his shoulder in the mirror, shirt still dangling from his hand. “Of course, if you wanted me to shower early, I could always shower with you,” he murmured and quirked his eyebrows, only half joking.  
Marco was still damp from his shower, a few droplets that hadn’t dried yet lingering along the tops of his shoulders and right in the gentle dip of his lower back. Jean dropped his shirt to the tile floor, curling his hands over his boyfriend’s shoulders and grinning cheekily.

A faint blush glowed on Marco’s cheeks, but he smiled. “Oh? You want to shower with me?”

“Hell yeah, sounds like fun. I’m surprised we haven’t yet.” Jean let his hands wander from the top of Marco’s shoulders, drifting down his sides, stopping to rest right above where he’d slung his towel low on his hips.

Marco craned his head over his shoulder, smiling and pressing his lips to Jean’s once his boyfriend rose up on his toes. He ducked his head a few inches to make it easier, just barely breaking their kiss so he could turn to face Jean. Their lips made soft noises in the quiet of the bathroom as they kissed, Jean rubbing his thumbs in circles over Marco’s hips. 

And those soft circles were having a bit of an effect on Marco, who couldn’t help the way his breath was starting to hitch or how each time Jean rubbed his hips like that his cock twitched. 

“Mm.” Brown eyes fluttered, tanned arms winding themselves around Jean and pressing him up closer to the planes of his body.

“You like that?” Jean slid his fingers under the edge of Marco’s towel, giving a bit of a tug and smiling against his boyfriend’s mouth when the towel fell to the floor in a heap. He nudged it to the side, tilting his head a bit and deepening the kiss.

“Mhmm.” He felt the towel fall away, and he gave a roll of his hips, pushing his growing hard on up against Jean’s. Marco moaned softly into his boyfriend’s mouth, continuing to stir his hips. His brow was furrowed in pleasure, his hands pressing at the small of Jean’s back.

“Fuck, Marco. What happened- happened to leaving early?” he breathed, turning his head so Marco was mouthing at his jawline while he spoke.

“Still got time.”

“Not at the rate we’re going now.” Jean smirked. “At the rate we’re going now, there is only one acceptable place for this to end, and that is in bed.”

Marco had managed to work his way down the pale column of Jean’s throat, leaving him hickeys as he went. Which was odd, because Marco was far more private about their sex life than Jean had ever been, and usually the marks he left were ones that you could hide easily. “Fine with me,” he murmured against the side of the blonde’s throat with a smile.

“Did you not get enough last night or something?” Jean asked teasingly, knowing perfectly well they hadn’t had sex last night, or for a week’s worth of nights before that.

Marco lifted his head, still rocking against Jean. “I haven’t gotten enough in awhile. Screw your boss for having you work the late shift a week straight.”

“So you’re just insanely horny, and the morning, 45 minutes before classes, is the best time for all your sexual frustration?” His breath kept hitching, and there were pauses between his words whenever he swallowed hard.

“Mhmm,” Marco hummed insistently, a contrast to his usual patience.

“I like it.”

“You’d better.” And with that the brunette ducked his head again, resuming his and Jean’s kiss, lifting a hand from the small of his boyfriend’s back to twine it through blonde bedhead.

Jean lifted one of his legs, and Marco slipped a hand under the back of his knee, lifting him so that he could wrap his legs around his waist. He twined his arms around Marco’s neck, pushing his chest up to Marco’s with a quiet groan. 

He curled his tongue against Marco’s, reveling in how soft his lips were, how closely Marco was holding him, the way they kept grinding their hips together.

Marco adjusted his grip on Jean, walking out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. He bent over the end of the bed, tipping his blonde boyfriend across the covers. The bed shifted when Marco climbed up onto the end of the bed and over the blonde, straddling his lap and giving a soft whine when his cock slid along Jean’s. “Fuck,” he swore under his breath, brushing his lips along one slender collarbone. 

Jean rose an eyebrow, running crooked fingers through damp, dark brown hair. Marco must have been turned on – significantly more than usual – because he never swore. Hardly ever. “Feelin’ good?” he breathed with a faint curve of a smile.

Marco laughed against his collarbone, lifting his head to kiss Jean again. “You know it,” he murmured into the kiss. 

“So no class this morning?”

“I’ll tell Professor Martinez I didn’t feel well.”

“There upwards of 300 people in my class; I doubt I’ll be missed.” Jean smirked before pulling Marco close again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody who takes time to actually read any of my fics is amazing; you're all lovely. I smile every time I see that I've gotten more hits or kudos. 
> 
> Also, sorry if it seems a bit rushed. I realized I hadn't updated in about 3 weeks, and I had some spare time during my long weekend. So I kind of just banged it out.


	3. First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3\. First Time
> 
> Oh my god, high school AU Jeanmarco. Kind of awkward, first time high school AU Jeanmarco. I’m dying right now.
> 
> A little change of AU. They’re juniors in high school. They’ve known each other since the beginning of freshman year, started dating sometime in sophomore year, and now they’re juniors.
> 
> Also, my apologies for how much longer this is than the other ones; I got a bit carried away because this one was fun to write.

_Hey marco, you doing anything?_

It was only a few days into spring break, and Jean had yet to hang out with Marco, which was a little ridiculous. A guy should be able to spend the entirety of spring break with his boyfriend, but Marco’s little siblings said otherwise. His mom had to work, and so Marco was left to the task of keeping a twelve year old and a six year old out of trouble. His older brother Matthew was off at the naval academy, so he was off the table for babysitting.

_Was watching Sam and Tobin, but they’re at friend’s house now_

Sam was the twelve year old, who absolutely refuses to go by “Samantha”. Tobin was the six year old, and for all intents and purposes, he was mute. He could make noise, God knows people have heard him wail over things enough. He just doesn’t talk.

_Thank god, come over?_

There was a long pause; Marco had an infuriating habit of wandering away from his phone to do something like get a snack after he replied to texts.

_Marco?_

_Sorry, got a banana. can u come over instead? don’t feel like walking, car fell apart last friday, remember?_

When Marco said his car had fallen apart, he meant it. It had already been coming apart at the seams, but he’d been pulling into school, and someone tapped his bumper. Which promptly fell off, along with a few other kind of important parts. The car wasn’t worth fixing really, so he’d scrapped it and gotten what he could for metal and parts.

_Right, i forgot, gimme 10_

_Minutes or hours?_

_Shut up_

Marco was right though, if completely overexaggerated. Jean was always late. Didn’t matter what to, he was late. So when he said ten minutes, it meant more like thirty minutes. And he got to Marco’s house thirty minutes later on the dot.

“Late as usual,” the brunette teased when he opened the door to Jean. Marco propped one arm up against the doorframe, grinning widely.

“I’m nothing if not fashionably late,” Jean said with a wrinkle of his nose, rising up on his toes to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s jaw before ducking under his arm into the house.

Marco laughed and closed the door, following Jean halfway down the front hall. “Where’re you going?”

The blonde looked over his shoulder and arched his brows in a poor imitation of a seductress. “Your couch.”

“Alright, lead the charge.”

Jean winked cheekily before trotting the rest of the way to the living room, shedding his leather jacket on the floor, and flopping onto the couch before Marco even made it in.

“You should really hang things up, there’s a chair right here,” he said once he walked in. The brunette bent and picked up the leather jacket, draping it over the back of the cushy chair in the corner and walking over to sit by Jean. Jean promptly wormed his way over and laid his head on Marco’s lap, hazel eyes peering up at his boyfriend lazily.

“What do you want to do?” Marco asked, carding his fingers through blonde strands.

“I could… suck your dick?” He tipped his head from side to side, pushing it against Marco’s groin briefly. Jean held a straight face, only the slight curve in his upper lip betraying how hard he was trying not to laugh.

It was worth withholding laughter for. Marco went bright red. Immediately. To the point where his freckles disappeared. “I was thinking something more along the lines of a movie or something?”

Laughter bubbled up from Jean’s throat, bursting out in an explosive bark. He sat up, practically choking on his laughter.

Marco rolled his eyes, cheeks still burning. “Cute.”

Jean managed to gather himself, slipping every time he thought of his boyfriend’s face. “I-I know I am,” he wheezed.

“C’mon then, funny man. Movie.” Warmth still lingered in his face, but now he was smiling faintly.

“Fine,” Jean said with a pout, Marco forgiving him enough to let him curl into his side.

“How about _The Exorcist_?” Marco asked, smiling to himself at the reaction he knew he’d elicit from Jean. He was pretty much the only one who knew how freaked out horror movies made Jean. The blonde refused to let it get out because he didn’t want Jaeger riding his ass about it, even though he wouldn’t admit that was why.

“Haha, funny. I get it; I won’t laugh at your blush ever again,” he promised solemnly.

Marco kissed the top of his head sweetly. “You learn quickly. How about an X-Men movie?”

Jean poked his tongue out. “Don’t feel like action.”

“Nicholas Sparks?”

“Only you like that sappy shit.”

“I can’t help that I fall for the same plot line over and over again. Guilty pleasure.” 

“I thought _I_ was your guilty pleasure.”

“My pleasure indeed. Not guilty though.”

“Fine, Sparks. I’d better get some kissing if I have to sit through this.”

Marco grinned, tightening his arm around Jean. “I can do that.”

So they were halfway through _The Notebook_ , and Marco was a lot more focused on the blonde riding his lap and kissing along his neck like it was a job than he was on the movie.

“I-I actually kind of wanted to watch the movie,” he breathed, his fingers pressing hard into bony hips.

“You’ve already seen it,” Jean panted hotly against the flushed area he’d created on his boyfriend’s neck. His tongue laved over oversensitive flesh, his teeth nipping at Marco’s skin. “You taste good,” he murmured.

Marco arched his back and moaned quietly, wrapping his arms tighter around Jean, his brown eyes heavily lidded. “Thanks.”

Lips wandered up from Marco’s neck, over his jaw, and to his mouth. Jean tilted his head, rocking against the brunette’s hard on through his pants in sweet rhythm. Their kisses were broken with hot, quick breaths and soft pleasured sounds. 

Marco had a way of starting to moan low and husky, but it would catch in his throat and go a few notches higher once it escaped. And _fuck_ it was the hottest sound on the planet. 

He made sure that he had a good grip on Jean before turning, rolling so that Jean was sitting back on the couch instead of straddling him. Marco was standing on one leg, the other knee propped up on the edge of the couch, and his hands rested on either side of Jean’s hips. This time it was his tongue wandering over Jean’s neck, making the blonde whine under him in desire.

Jean reached down between them, rubbing the bulge in Marco’s pants and watching the pleasure write itself across his boyfriend’s face.

“So good,” Marco groaned softly, bowing his head and tucking his face into Jean’s neck. He arched his pelvis further into the blonde’s hand.

Jean bit his lip and let his hand creep to the zipper of Marco’s shorts, giving a flick of his wrist and unzipping them. His fingers deftly undid the button, and he slipped his hand into boxer briefs that were deliciously tight. He wasn’t sure if Marco did that on purpose or not. Probably not; he had no idea how utterly stellar his ass was.

Marco’s breath quickened in anticipation when he felt Jean’s hand in his pants, circling him, pulling him up and out of his underwear. His other knee rose to the edge of couch, legs straddling Jean. Marco brought his hands up to the back of the couch behind the blonde, his face still tucked against his neck. He began to rock into slender fingers, his brow furrowing and his teeth catching at the inside of his cheek.

“Marco.”

He slowed slightly, trying to even his breath out enough to speak properly. “Mm?”

“I, ah-” Jean pulled his neck from Marco, craning his neck to peer at an arousal-flushed face.

Marco sat up a bit farther, making it so that Jean had to look up at him. “What’s wrong?”

And for once it was Jean who was blushing and a bit flustered. “Nothing’s wrong.”

A thumb tipped his chin up, and Marco bent his head, pressing a sound kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. He didn’t pull away once the kiss ended, instead resting his forehead against Jean’s. “What is it?” It always astounded Jean how quickly Marco could drop almost _anything_ to worry about another person.

It took a good measure more of coaxing and soft kisses before Jean would admit what he’d been thinking about, what he wanted. 

“Do you think- Do you think that we’re ready? Because I’ve been kind of wanting to bring it up but I didn’t think you’d want to talk about it since you hadn’t already mentioned it any and everything changes once you bring it up, you know?” His words came out rushed, like each syllable was chasing the one before it off his tongue.

“What?”

“Um, sex.”

Marco’s brows inched up, which made Jean want to cringe. It either meant he had no idea how to let someone down nicely about something or that he was just thinking. Jean hoped to every god and other force in the universe that it was the latter.

They’d gone as far as oral, but not past there. Hell, they hadn’t even really talked about it besides the “we’re both virgins, right?” conversation. Not to say that their nosy friends never inquired or they never thought about it on their own.

Then Marco bent his head again, brown eyes peering right into hazel ones. “Do _you_ think we’re ready?”

Jean took a breath and nodded, not breaking their eye contact. He tilted his head to continue kissing the brunette. “Do you have condoms? Lube?” he murmured into the kiss.

“Ah- upstairs, in Matt's room where mom can't find them.”

“I can run and grab them if you want.”

Marco broke the kiss. “I got it. We should probably go upstairs anyways; my bed’s more comfy than the couch.” He stood, tucking himself back into his pants with some difficulty before pulling Jean to his feet and leading him upstairs.

Once they were in his room, Jean sat back on the bed. His heart was pounding, and his stomach was so fluttery it felt like he’d just rode the steep drop of a rollercoaster. But it was all in a good way? A supremely good way, he decided, while he watched Marco tug off his t-shirt and dart out of the room to unearth condoms and lube from somewhere in Matt's shirt drawer.

An _amazingly_ supremely good way, he thought when Marco walked over to him. Fuck, and Jean had been barely holding it together with just a view of his back. It was a tanned expanse dotted with freckles, most of which seemed to be concentrated around the tops of broad shoulders. Not too broad, but the perfect balance between muscular and lean.

But when he turned around? Honestly, the first things Jean’s eyes went to were his collarbones and that sweet little dip in between them at the base of his throat (after the bulge in his pants, of course). Then those two definite lines in his musculature, leading down into his pants.

“Jean?”

Jean’s eyes snapped up to his face, and he felt a little relieved that Marco looked nervous too. Turned on more than anything else, but nervous. “Right.” His fingers found the hem of his shirt, pulling it off over his head. He stood to begin the process of wriggling out of his ridiculously tight jeans, which he insisted upon wearing even over spring break. He swallowed hard and sat on the bed once they – along with his underwear – were off, wriggling back so that his shoulders were propped up on Marco’s pillows.

Marco’s shorts were already unbuttoned from before, and all he did was push them and his underwear down off his hips, letting them fall to the floor. He sat on the bed, shifting over by Jean’s feet. Marco slicked his fingers with lube, nudging his boyfriend’s legs apart gently.

He flinched, his heart hammering in his chest harder than it had already been at the exposed feeling of having his legs spread, even if it was just Marco with him. “Fuck, kiss me for a second,” he said, his voice breaking on the last word and betraying his nerves. Jean reached up and grabbed his shoulder, pulling his boyfriend down to seal his lips over Marco’s.

The kiss was frantic in a frayed, raw sort of way. And each of them took comfort in it, the familiar locking of lips taking the edge off of the nerves that ran high.

It was Marco who ended up breaking the kiss, pressing his forehead to Jean’s with a shaky exhalation of breath. “Okay?”

“Yeah, dork.” They both laughed and it felt… easier. Like the comic relief during that moment of high tension in a movie.

Jean finally hitched his legs up farther and spread them a touch wider, his eyes fluttering shut. Marco’s finger pressed against him, circling his entrance like he was asking permission. The blonde gave a nod, feeling a finger push in with ease. He clenched around it, arching his back faintly before he relaxed. “Mm, more,” he purred. Marco’s fingers were so much different from his own, wider and warmer and _perfect_.

The brunette smiled, pumping his finger in and out of Jean before working another one into him excruciatingly slowly. He curled his fingers, his dick twitching at the helpless moan from his blonde boyfriend. Marco kept fingering him, working him open and watching his face intently. “Good?”

“Great,” Jean breathed.

“Another?”

“Wait a second.” Jean gave a faint wiggle, giving himself a second to get used to the feeling of Marco’s fingers.

After a minute he tipped his head back, groaning when Marco pushed another digit into him and let him grow accustomed to it. “Mm,” he hummed softly, a tremor running through his body when he felt Marco pull his fingers from him. Hazel eyes watched as Marco opened a condom and put it on, making sure he ran lube-slick fingers up his length to make it easier for Jean.

He let his legs slacken a bit, feeling warm hands wrap them loosely around Marco’s waist.

“Ready?”

Jean nodded, trying to keep from tensing up. 

“Promise I’ll go slow,” Marco murmured, clearing his throat.

The blonde closed his eyes, fingers digging into the comforter involuntarily when he felt Marco begin to ease into him. His lips parted faintly, breath hitching.

Marco continued, getting maybe two-thirds of the way before Jean made a soft, internal noise low in his throat. It was like a stifled little hum accompanied by a furrowed brow. 

“Okay?” Strong hands rubbed gentle circles into narrow hips.

“Can you go slower? Just for the last bit?” 

“Yeah, of course,” he said hurriedly. “Was it not- ah- okay before?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” A pink flush had settled across the tops of Jean’s cheekbones.

The brunette leaned over farther, bracing his hands against the bed on either side of his boyfriend. “Okay then.” He went slower than he had been before, paying attention to Jean’s face to try and make sure he wasn’t hurting him. He wanted to seem like he knew what he was doing. Not mainly because he wanted to be good in bed – though he did – but because he felt kind of… in charge. If he went to fast or something and hurt Jean and ruined this it was his fault.

The blonde instinctively arched his back, feeling Marco’s dick slide along his prostate. “Fu-uck,” he said, somehow breaking the word into two syllables with a little breathy sound in between them. He felt almost uncomfortably full in one of the most amazing and completely unfamiliar ways possible. Like he was being pushed right up into this pleasurable place that hovered just before his breaking point.

Marco shifted on his haunches, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he clenched it in pleasure. He bent over Jean, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before letting his lips trail down to his neck.

Jean sighed, running his hands up freckled biceps, his fingers tracing the twin curves of shoulder blades. They stayed like that for a few minutes, slowly kissing and touching, Marco giving lazy circles of his hips into Jean.

Gradually slow circles mounted to shallow thrusts, which in turn shifted into much less shallow thrusts at Jean’s encouragement.

The blonde’s lips were pressed together as he suppressed words and noises that nipped at the tip of his tongue like leashed dogs. Soft, clipped moans slipped from his mouth, his fingers scrabbling for purchase against the cover of Marco’s perfectly made bed (no matter what he said, Jean was sure he was more of a perfectionist than he let on).

He made a startled noise (more of a squeak than he’d like to admit), furrowing his brows and clenching hard around Marco when the brunette pushed a little harder than he had been.

“Shit, sorry,” Marco breathed hotly, looking down at Jean with worried brown eyes.

Jean arched his back and squirmed a bit, rolling his hips before his eyes flicked back to his boyfriend. “’S fine, you’re fine.”

They worked their way back into their rhythm again, and a slim-fingered hand relaxed around its fistful of navy blue cotton. Jean’s fingers crept up over his own hip, finding his hard on and starting to stroke himself. His breathing picked up, eyelids fluttering at the intoxicating way the sensation of Marco thrusting into him and his own hand on himself combined.

Hazel eyes peered up at Marco, watching pearl white teeth digging into a plump bottom lip - like he was concentrating. The veins in tanned, freckled forearms were corded up, and Jean ran his hand up and down his cock a bit faster at the sight. As he watched, he could see Marco’s control slipping, like he’d stepped on the edge of a loose rock and it was crumbling faster and faster the longer he watched.

Marco bent his head, sucking a breath in hard through his nose. “Fuck, Jean,” he said, his voice a tempting mixture of a moan and some kind of pleasured whimpery noise. “I-I” His back arched subtly when he came, brown eyes screwing shut, lines appearing in his forehead as he frowned in pleasure. The brunette’s lip slid from between his own teeth, wet with saliva and a kiss-bitten red color. 

He didn’t moan very loud, but a perfect little “oh” chased by a trembly sigh punctuated his orgasm.

The brunette’s eyes opened to Jean arching and stirring beneath him. The blonde’s breath was coming fast and hard, his teeth worrying at the inside of cheek. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Marco said hurriedly, like Jean was in a state to care at that point. Marco had quit his thrusts, instead chasing the Jean’s fingers from around his cock. He replaced Jean’s hand with his own, running it up and down his boyfriend’s hardness teasingly for a few heartbeats before speeding up. His thumb smeared precum over Jean’s tip, tracing circles.

A strangled sort of noise escaped Jean, and he tensed, fisting his hands in the cover like he had before. He wasn’t as quiet about his orgasm, soft moans interrupting quick, hot pants of air while he arched, clenching around Marco.

And then it was completely quiet except for breathing that gradually slowed as the seconds ticked by. And there wasn’t any movement but two pairs of eyes – one hazel and one brown – locking in the almost silence.

It was Marco who moved first, sliding out of Jean, pulling the condom off and reaching over him to drop it in his waste bin. He snagged a tissue and wiped himself off, tossing that too.

Hands pressed against his chest, thumbs brushing along Marco’s skin. “So fidgety,” Jean murmured with one of his token half smiles. 

“Might as well do it now so I can spend later doing this,” the brunette murmured, craning his neck down to press his mouth to Jean’s.

Jean giggled. “I like this,” he mumbled against Marco’s lips. His eyes were half-lidded, the hectic flush in his cheeks dying down with every minute that slipped by.

Marco rolled onto his side next to his boyfriend, throwing a leg over him and pulling him close. “You’re so mellow.”

The blonde pushed his face against his chest with a smile. “Mm?”

“It’s kind of adorable.”

Jean laughed softly. “You like?”

“Mhmm. Now I know how to settle you down.”

“You’ve got bedroom eyes yourself, mister.” Jean flicked his chest, laughing when Marco protested. They lapsed into silence, something that was only broken after a few minutes by Marco.

“So- ah- was it- good?”

A bark of laughter escaped Jean, tapering off into chuckles. “What is this, a customer satisfaction survey?”

A faint smile lifted the edges of Marco’s mouth. “C’mon, seriously.”

Jean propped his elbow up on the pillow and rested his cheek against the heel of his hand. “Yeah, of course it was good. Best first time I could’ve asked for.” He wiggled his eyebrows seductively. “Unless you couldn’t tell. I’ll be louder next time.”

Marco blushed. “No, no, I could tell.” He looked down. “So I didn’t… hurt you or anything? You kind of squeaked once.”

The blonde leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend. “I mean, a little, yeah. But that was kind of to be expected, right? First time and all.” He sprang up and straddled Marco, laughing at the surprised look on the brunette’s face. “But mostly it was actually really fucking amazing, so I wouldn’t worry.”

Marco grinned widely, pulling Jean down to kiss him again. They were only interrupted by a loud knock on the door and a noise that sounded like impatient foot tapping.

Marco’s eyes flew wide. “Holy shit. Oh my god, oh my god. Get up.”

Jean grabbed a shirt (which probably wasn’t his) and his jeans off of the floor and tugged them on, hopping around to wriggle into them. “Jesus, I go commando all the time but I would appreciate a second to adjust myself,” he complained in a hushed voice while Marco ushered him into the closet, pulled on a pair of shorts, and tidied the bed all at once.

“Marco!”

The brunette rushed over to the door and opened it quickly, leaning against it in a pitiable mockery of nonchalance. “Mhmm?”

Mrs. Bodt rose one dark brow at Marco. “You look a little hot, hon,” she said, reaching up to press her hand to the back of his head like she did every time she thought there might be something up with him (medical or not).

Marco lifted his head so she couldn’t reach, half of a laugh slipping from his lips. “I’m pretty sure I’m fine, mom. What’s up?”

“Well, first of all, Sam and Tobin called from Liz, Alex, and Thomas’ house more than a couple times asking if they could sleep over. I just listened to all of the voicemails and called Mrs. Springer to let her know they could. You know I was pulling an extra shift at the office.” She worked weekdays as a nurse and sometimes picked up shifts as a secretary at a telephone company on the weekends. 

Marco rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, mom. I guess I just didn’t hear it. Listening to music or something.”

“Uh huh. Second of all, your shorts are on backwards.” She snapped her son’s waistband.

The brunette’s mouth gaped open for a second, his cheeks going pink. “They’re comfy like that?” His voice went up at the end like it was a question.

“Marco, you are one of the more nurturing and trustworthy children who live under this roof,” Mrs. Bodt teased him. “But you can’t lie worth a freckle.” She grinned and patted her son’s chest. “Jean, you can stop hiding now.”

A sheepish Jean poked his head out of the closet and padded out into the middle or Marco’s room. He rose a hand and gave an awkward wave. “Hey, Mrs. Bodt. H-How did you know I was here?”

She smiled wide and tipped her head just barely to the side just like Marco did when was being cheeky. Dark waves with a few grays fell to the side with the tip of her head. “Jean, how did you get here?”

“A car.”

“A car that is still parked in front of the house.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jean went as pink as Marco was.

“Alright. Well, I’m going downstairs to unload some groceries I picked up on the way home.” She rose her eyebrow again. “There’s probably a movie on tv, if we’re feeling like taking this downstairs.” Her eyes twinkled almost teasingly as she turned around and walked back downstairs.

Once she was gone Jean buried his face in his hands. “Oh. My. God. There is _no_ way she doesn’t know what the hell just happened.”

Marco walked over to him and wrapped his arms around him. His face was just as red as Jean’s was, and he rested his chin on top of Jean’s head. “Well, at least you don’t have to live with her. She won’t even ask straight up questions. She’ll drop little hints until I go insane and bring it up myself. The woman’s a genius.”

Jean rolled his eyes and gave Marco a gentle shove. “Alright, turn your shorts around and put a shirt on. We can finish _The Notebook_ if you really want. But next time… we’re doing this at my house.”

“Next time?”

“Mhmm,” Jean murmured with a coy smile. He leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Marco’s lips before walking out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I question why the note from the first chapter is at the bottom of every chapter, sorry for that


	4. Masturbation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4\. Masturbation
> 
> Ugh the AU for this one was so fucking hard to decide, but I’m gonna have to go with these dorks as college freshmen. You know, living in dorms, suitemates, ect.
> 
> And I am so fucking sorry that this took me so long to get around to, I promise I'll try my damnedest to be better at uploading this summer.

“Goddamnit, Marco, you’re so hot,” Jean gasped quietly into their kiss. Wide, tanned hands clutched at the small of Jean’s back, pressing the blonde straddling his lap roughly against his body. One of the hands slid down, gripping at Jean’s hip and rubbing a sharp hipbone with his thumb.

They hadn’t been able to see each other for a while, despite attending the same university. Jean was in a dorm halfway across campus, and their schedules clashed in an almost impossible way. Marco was loaded with morning classes, and Jean with afternoon. Free time was rare. But it was the weekend, and a study session to help Jean with a Lit class of his had devolved into making out barely a minute into studying. Mostly because they’d chosen Marco’s dorm room for their workspace. His currently _roommate-free dorm_ room.

The brunette just kissed his boyfriend harder in response, holding him even closer than before. The navy duvet that had been tucked so neatly over his bed was wrinkled to hell, something he’d fix later but couldn’t be bothered with now. Marco rolled over, dumping Jean out of his lap so that he could run his hands along more of his body. It wasn’t often that Marco lost it like this. Usually Jean was the one who went brainless with lust and couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Then Marco paced them. But not today. 

Jean wound his fingers through brown strands, his eyelids fluttering in pleasure when Marco’s lips left his mouth and found his neck. He swallowed hard, pressing his lips together firmly at the way his boyfriend nuzzled gently at his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“I missed you,” he murmured hotly against Jean’s throat, one of his hands reaching down to slide between the blonde’s legs and rub at the bulge in his pants through his jeans.

The blonde arched into his touch, his lip tucked firmly between his teeth. “Missed you more.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Prove it, stud.”

“Hey,” Jean whined softly even though the corners of his mouth were tipped up in a faint smile. “I get to call _you_ stud.”

“Do you?”

Jean lifted his foot, running it up Marco’s leg to brush it against his crotch through his gym shorts. He grinned at the way his boyfriend’s hips twitched and his eyes closed. The blonde rubbed at Marco’s chest with a devious smile. “Hell yeah I do.” He leaned up, pushing at Marco, who relented and let Jean nudge him onto his back. “I do because I’m the boss,” the blonde said triumphantly from his perch on the brunette’s lap.

Marco chuckled, his hands rising to Jean’s waist as he began to roll his hips up under Jean. “Oh yeah, you’re definitely the boss.”

The blonde tipped his head back with a soft moan, trying to be quiet so that the rest of the hall wouldn’t hear them. He rose up on his knees, lifting his hips from Marco’s and looking down at him. “You fight dirty, babe.”

Marco smiled widely at him, letting his hands fall to the bed, his head sinking deeper into the pillow. “Okay, okay. I’m yours,” he murmured. “We can do _whatever_ you want.”

Jean laid across his boyfriend’s chest, kissing at his jaw. “Anything?”

“I said _whatever_ , didn’t I?”

“Indeed you did,” he purred. “What if I just want to _watch_ you do something?”

Marco cocked his head. “Hm?”

“Promise you won’t be weirded out?”

“Jean, you tried to have ‘cheese sex’ with me that one night you were hammered after Armin’s birthday party; I don’t think anything you could ask for could get weirder than that.” He chuckled.

“And thank god you stopped me.” He shuddered. “Thankfully I was thinking about something sans-cheese.” Jean braced his hands against Marco’s shoulders. “I’ve kind of always wondered what you look like when you’re with yourself.” One of his hands started creeping down his boyfriend’s body with each word. “You know. Touching yourself.” He bit his lip, looking down between them when his fingers curled over Marco’s crotch and squeezed gently. “Here.” Hazel eyes flicked back to the brunette’s face, peering up through lashes that matched the darkness of his undercut.

Marco’s cheeks flushed hot. “You want to watch me masturbate?”

“Oh my god.” Jean buried his face in the brunette’s chest embarrassedly. “Yes?”

“That’s really hot.”

“Really?” His words were muffled.

Marco poked his cheek until he looked up. “Yeah.”

“Oh thank god.” Jean smirked, kissing along a freckled collarbone. “I was afraid you wouldn’t like my idea.”

“Mm, I love your ideas.” He was already rummaging through one of the drawers under his bed for lube while the blonde kissed and nipped over his collarbones. “You’re gonna have to give me a little space if you want to watch so badly,” he murmured huskily. 

Jean sat up and shifted off of Marco’s hips, sitting alongside him with one leg folded under himself. His gaze was heavy on each movement of Marco’s hands. A thumb with a lone freckle on the knuckle flipping the cap of the lube up. Squeezing some into a strong palm. His pants grew tighter – if that was possible – when he saw Marco reach down to push his shorts down over his hips, over his hard cock. He bit his lip hard, watching Marco’s hand run over his cock, slicking it with lube.

“I want these all the way off,” Jean murmured, tugging the shorts down further before dropping them off the edge of the bed.

Marco was already letting his thumb rub over his tip when Jean worked his shorts down. “Is that how you envisioned it?”

“Hell yeah it is,” he breathed. 

The brunette tipped his head back with a sigh as he began to pump himself, fully aware of Jean’s eyes on him. Usually he would’ve been a blushing mess by now – even though he was used to his boyfriend’s ideas – but it had been a little too long since they’d been together in any sexual capacity and Marco was feeling about as horny as he’d ever been. He paid more attention to what he was doing with his face as he continued, letting his brow furrow and his lips part just a little bit. 

After a few minutes, Jean’s brain was pretty much running circles around itself. _This_ was the part where he went brainless with lust and couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His hand found Marco’s thigh, sliding up so close to his-

“Ah ah,” Marco murmured, turning onto his side and facing away from Jean.

“C’mon, lemme help you out.”

“You just said you wanted to _watch_.” He moaned softly, teasing Jean with the sound of his pleasure. Because really, he wouldn’t mind at all if Jean wanted to help him out, but he was going to make damn sure to have some fun first. He felt a narrow frame press up against his back, a chin resting on his arm, and a very distinct boner pressing into his back.

A soft hum escaped Jean as he pressed kisses to his boyfriend’s bicep, beginning to rut against his back slowly. Hazel eyes were still locked Marco’s hand; the sight of the brunette touching himself like that was a fucking dream. A dream Jean was pretty sure he’d had more than a few times. “Yeah, but I didn’t realize how fucking hot you’d look,” he whined softly.

Marco didn’t answer, but he arched his ass into Jean, continuing to pump himself. His breath was quickening, his bottom lip reddening the more he worried at it with his teeth. Lips still pressed flurries of kisses to his arm, and a hand crept down his body, circling the base of his cock. “Jean,” he breathed, allowing his hand to fall away and his boyfriend to take over for him.

Jean began to kiss and suck at the back of a sparsely freckled neck, leaving hickeys behind while he reached down Marco’s front to run his hand up and down his dick. He smiled against tanned skin when he heard Marco groan softly and arch back further against him. His hand slowed as drops of precum leaked over his fingers, and his thumb found Marco’s tip, rubbing it just like how he knew sent him over the edge.

“Oh my god, Jean,” he gasped, turning his head to press his lips to Jean’s, opening his mouth and kissing with the almost frantic passion of a man about to tip over the edge. His hands fisted tightly, one in his bedspread, the other behind him in Jean’s t-shirt. His hips bucked, and Marco turned his head from Jean, stifling a moan in his pillow as he came.

His core relaxed once he’d finished, and he leaned against the blonde pressed up behind him on his narrow dorm room bed. He sighed softly, brown eyes lidded in bliss while Jean kept kissing at his neck, more gently now, since he knew that’s how Marco liked it when he was coming down from an orgasm. “You’re way too good at this,” he murmured, turning over to face Jean, shifting to run a clean hand through blonde strands and then through dark undercut. 

“To be fair, I did about ten percent of that.”

“Mm, maybe five,” Marco teased through kiss-bitten lips.

“Fair enough.” Jean kissed him softly, smiling widely. “Your mouth is so fucking pretty.”

Pink glowed under freckled cheeks. “You’re just feeling like flattery because I agreed to another one of your ideas.” 

Jean laughed through his nose and wriggled closer, brushing his lips along Marco’s jaw. “You liked it though, right? I didn’t hear any complaints. And your mouth _is_ so fucking pretty.” The pink curve of a plump bottom lip, soft and swollen from passionate kisses. A cupid’s bow deeper than his own, and so familiar to him.

“I liked it. Liked watching your face more though.”

“Oh?” Jean said against Marco’s skin, nipping his jawline gently, kissing the place where his neck became his jaw.

“Mhmm. You looked like you were gonna come in your pants.”

He snorted. “I haven’t done that since high school. ‘Bout to do it again though.”

“I’d laugh ‘cept for the fact that I know I’ll end up walking down to the Laundromat with you so you can wash your boxers – along with all of your other laundry. And you’ll make me help you sort between darks and lights because you can’t tell what counts as what, or else you’ll screw up another shirt.”

“Oh yeah, just keep talking laundry to me, babe.”

Marco chuckled. “Alright, alright.” He reached down between them, fingers catching at the zipper and button of Jean’s pants, undoing them deftly. “You have to promise that you’ll actually study after this. You need help with that Lit class.”

“Pinky swear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I’m so sorry that it’s been _months_ since I’ve updated this 30 days challenge thing. I got so busy with school and kind of fell out of the fandom for a while. And I actually started writing this update before I got busy, so I picked it up halfway through. Hopefully it doesn’t seem too disjointed or anything.
> 
> But school is winding down for me, so I’m back!
> 
> I just wanted to say thank you so much to every single person who reads these and leaves comments or kudos or anything; it means so much to know that people like what I create.


End file.
